Prisoner
by Tinderbox of Sanity
Summary: Alexander and Daniel's games have become a little twisted. Involves a flog, and a watching prisoner.


Contains: Flogging, voyeurism, exibitionism.

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The air down here was always damp. You never noticed it when you were wearing clothing, but without it every breath was like drowning. The chill permeated the room, which only accentuated the miserable clammy feeling that it left on ones skin. In the corner of the room there was sniffling, and a little bit of groaning. It sounded like a man, but he couldn't quite make out the gender from those sounds alone. Daniel couldn't _see _because of the thick blindfold tied around his head. Alexander _knew _he hated the darkness, but he also knew that if the Englishman could _see _the prisoners he would sometimes become distracted during this. Currently, the cold stone floor was chilling the balls of Daniel's feet and toes almost to numbness. It hadn't even been all that long—the Baron would never leave him too long, but the temperature was quite low. His skin, bare to for all but himself to see, was prickled with goose bumps from both the brisk air… and the anticipation.

Finally the sound of hard-soled boots clicking in the hallways approached, and he felt his heart picking up pace. Daniel could control his breathing, but it seemed the prisoner in the room with him wasn't so inclined. Daniel's other senses were heightened without his sight, and so he heard that breath shorten, listened to the chains jingle as bare feet scuffed the floor. His own ankles were shaking a little, having been left standing nearly on his toes for some time now. His wrists, they were secured tightly above his head at the moment, stretching his body taunt. He had the benefit of having them wrapped in silk scarves before the heavy metal shackles were closed around them, which kept them from cutting into his skin whenever he took a short break. He would grasp the chains above them and hang on, but today Alexander had pulled them up a bit too high for that.

The old wooden door creaked just as the footsteps ceased to fall, and Daniel held his breath. The prisoner whimpered, and Daniel finally concluded that it was a male. The footsteps started up again, and the door closed. He listened to them, following them with his ears, over to the rack on the wall. He knew it well. Swallowing, Daniel shifted from one foot to the other, which prompted a small rattle from the chains suspending him. There was a low chuckle from the Baron, which provoked a shudder from the 'captive' Englishman. This was how he had come to love that voice alone… When he could only _hear _and _feel…_

"Eager are we? Well, I suppose I've kept you waiting. I had hoped your friend over there would keep you company." Daniel's thoughts were brought away from that seductive voice and back to his 'fellow' prisoner. The man had fallen mostly quiet, but aside from the sputtering of the torches lighting the room, the only other sound was that man's panting and whining. "Nothing to say? Well then, you must be eager to get started." Alexander concluded from that silence, and Daniel could only take in a deep breath. A few things rattled from the rack of items, and the Englishman only wished he could tell which of them were being considered.

This room wasn't like the others. Though it had all manner of items made for bondage and pain, no one died here—at least not anymore. Not unless _they_ wanted them to. Not unless it was a part of the game. Oh it was twisted and a part of him knew it wasn't right, but the heat growing in his body was fighting the cool air even as he thought of it. Finally it seemed that something had been chosen, as those footsteps were now moving towards him from behind. The first thing to touch him was the leather. Nine tails of it slapping lightly against his chest to alert him of the chosen implement. Daniel's heart skipped a beat, and he shifted his weight back on to the other foot as his lips parted. "Is that a yes, my eager prisoner?" As Alexander asked those words he let that flog trail down, the tails of it tickling Daniel's stomach, all the way to his soft member where he jumped back a little, giving a small sound. That got another chuckle and the flog was removed. A few steps back and to the side, and Daniel held his breath.

_Snap_! The sound of leather cracking was loud in the stone room, but the echo was drowned out not by Daniel's sharp gasp but instead by thehapless prisoner's sound of dismay. The tails of the flog had caught the back of Daniel's thighs, stinging sweetly. He stood straight and still as possible, knowing from experience that writhing under those lashes could land one in a bad area. Alexander had flawless aim, but Daniel didn't want to test it. _Snap, crack, crack_! The flog fell again and again, each tail bringing its own sharp pain and leaving behind a thin red welt which would puff up within seconds. The tips of the flog were the worst, wrapping around his thigh to catch the side, like pinpricks digging in.

_Snap, snap, crack_! The flog elevated upwards, across the supple cheeks of Daniel's ass. Daniel hissed as the tips of the flog now cut into his hips. His hands closed into fists and his back arched. The pain was building, slowly but surely. With each cross-over of those welts it intensified just one step more. There was no pause, no relief from the constant onslaught of that steady, slicing sensation that came with every welt raised. The angle of those blows would change suddenly, and the first cry would be pulled from Daniel's parted lips as the flog lashed across his shoulder blades with an angry _crack_! The tips had wrapped around that time to catch him under his arm, and _that _had hurt! Alexander's skillful hand remedied this by the next lash, so that the tips didn't wrap around his chest.

Ten, fifteen, how many had fallen by now? Just when Daniel thought he couldn't take anymore, those blows ceased to fall. But it wasn't over—oh, no, not just yet! Though Daniel was panting now, shuddering, and sweating even in this cold air, Alexander wasn't done. No, that wasn't right. _Daniel _wasn't done either. The prisoner in the corner was sobbing when those footsteps clicked a few times across the floor, moving to the other side of the suspended Englishman.

_CRACK_! The hard lash across his backside gave both of those already welted and red cheeks a good jolt, and Daniel gave a sharp cry in turn. Only that the pitch of his voice was not agony at all. Pain had come to overpower every other thought, every lash throbbing and stinging like a thousand needles pricking at his skin. This was what Alexander had taught him. Daniel _feared _the flog. He feared the whip, the cane, the knife, whatever implement that they chose to play with. But with that fear there came an anticipation of… of _something. _Of being controlled, being dominated, at the mercy of another. He trusted Alexander with his life, that went without saying. The Baron had taken him in, given him a place to stay, and taught him how to keep the Shadow away. He'd even helped to chase away Daniel's plaguing nightmares. This was all just another method, another game. _CRACK_! His thighs were on fire, and his breath was hitching.

"_Alex—ander_!" _SNAP_! Another across his backside, and he felt a wetness there.

"What is it?" _CRACK_! Daniel's back suffered another lash—nine of them if you counted each thin tail. The Englishman was trembling, his heart hammering in his ears. His wrists ached now, and he struggled to stay on his toes.

"_Please—_!" _SNAP, _"_Please, I can't…_!" _CRACK_! "_HA…_!" Daniel's head fell back, and for a moment he was hanging by his wrists as both feet left the floor, knees bending as if he wanted to curl up. "_Can't wait anymore_!" The flog stopped once again, and this time there was a _thud _as it fell to the floor.

"Let's just see about that…" Alexander remarked. The man was barely out of breath! Daniel wiggled a little now that he could, as he _felt _the Baron pass around to the front of him. There was a slight whistle, and long fingers reached out to trace the item they both knew he would find—Daniel's full erection. The Englishman felt his face burning, even as he shuddered in pleasure at the touch of those warm fingers. They traced him from base to tip along the underside, stopping at the head to smear the precum that had gathered there. "My my, it seems my prisoner is quite the deviant." Daniel felt a pressure in his chest; a guilt, a shame. He still couldn't quite get rid of it. "No? Let's ask someone else then." Strong hands gripped his hips, forcing Daniel to stumble as he turned around. He heard the prisoner from the corner gasp in horror, and Daniel suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe.

"_A-Alexander_…!" They had made the prisoners watch the 'torture' before, but not _this_! _Slap_! Daniel yelped at the slap to his very welted backside, and it died down into a whimper at the ache it left behind.

"Go on Daniel, tell him. Tell him what you are…" The Baron's clothed body came to press against his back, and Daniel hissed as pain and pleasure assaulted him all over again. While the left hand held tightly to his hip so that he couldn't wiggle away, the right came around to stroke his erection again. His voice was low, breath hot and tickling the back of Daniel's neck as he spoke. "_Just like I taught you…_"

"_I…_" Daniel's voice wavered, trembling with the effort it took not to move his hips _into _the hand stroking him. "_I am… a trollop—ha_!" He arched as he felt the Baron's fingers digging in to a welt that had wrapped around his hip.

"In_ Deutsch,_ Daniel." Alexander prompted. "He doesn't speak English." As if saying it once wasn't bad enough! At his small hesitation, the Baron went to draw his hand away from Daniel's erection.

"_Ich_… _Ich bin eine Schlampe_!" Daniel shouted in desperation. The prisoner began to mumble rapidly, and it was a jumble of prayers and curses in a dialect that Daniel couldn't fully grasp. It didn't matter—the meaning was understood. It created a conflict inside of him as it always did. Everything he had been before this whole venture, and everything that he was now. Alexander was pulling back, and he found hands on his hips directing him to turn again, fingers nearly sticking to his tacky skin. There was a slight rustle of clothing, and then the sharp sound of a small glass object hitting the floor.

The Baron's hands came up from under his backside, lifting him with a strength it was hard to believe that the older man could have. "_Ah-hhss_!" He exclaimed at the pain of those welts being agitated. But he obediently wrapped his legs around Alexander's waist when that body came close, and _now_ he could reach the chain holding the manacles about his wrists, and wrap his hands around them. The hands holding him squeezed those welted cheeks, provoking a low whimper of pain. He wanted to _see _the Baron's face, to remind himself of the pleasure the older man took in this. But he knew better than to ask that—not _now_!

"_Do you want it Daniel_?" Alexander's voice was finally breathy, low and full of lust. The chains rattled as Daniel shuddered, holding on to them tightly to help keep his weight up. And Daniel felt just what 'it' was, as he was lowered just enough for Alexander's oiled member to slide between those throbbing cheeks. The glass must have been a little vial of oil—and that was a blessing. Just as Daniel opened his mouth he heard the prisoner in the corner shouting again, barely recognizable as words through his sobs. The Englishman's chest ached, but his body ached _more_! Not with pain, but with a dreadful _lust_! A desire, and a _need _to be filled by that hot erection pressing right against his entrance.

"_Please_," Daniel whined, voice high and wavering.

"_Please __**what **__Daniel_?" And Alexander rubbed it there, moving his hips back and forth slightly. Daniel gave a dry sob, his body tingling from head to toe with heaven and hell.

"_Please—please fuck me. Please, Alexander—fuck me_!"* No sooner than he had given in, Alexander obliged. He pressed slowly up into the body hanging above him, and Daniel lost his breath. It hurt, being entered without preparation, but the most shameful part about it was that it didn't hurt _enough. _That is, not that he _wanted _it to hurt more, but that it could have, were he not used to this. His body knew just how to adjust, how to handle such an entry. Once Alexander was fully inside, there was only a moment's pause.

With Daniel suspended as he was, holding himself from above as well as bracing himself with his legs around Alexander's waist, the Baron was free to thrust up into him just as hard as he could. Chains jingled loudly as flesh slapped, and Alexander's heavy breath could be heard just as well as it could be felt gusting out over Daniel's hot and slick sweat-skin. But Daniel wasn't quiet anymore.

"_AH, H-AH, A-Alexander_!" His voice carried, easily filling their small playroom's mostly bare stone walls. Even the prisoner had fallen quiet against that voice, nothing but a sob or harsh word in-between the sounds of their sinful little union. Alexander had done this to him, trained Daniel to this point. But it all made life here bearable. Their little game would all boil down to a climax sooner or later, with Daniel's body glistening with sweat and Alexander's clothing clinging to his skin with it, voice raised as they came one, and then the other soon after.

If he lived through this trial, there was only one thing that Daniel was sure of. No one who ever knew what he had become here would be left alive.

That is, if he ever _wanted _to see the outside of these castle walls again…


End file.
